


Waters

by Collin_chWe



Series: Cloudverse [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:22:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Collin_chWe/pseuds/Collin_chWe
Summary: Cloud finds life is just a pain in the ass.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Series: Cloudverse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399900
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. Waters I

**Author's Note:**

> this is not related to the other fanfics in this series. it is as impulsive as it could get, and most of the things here don't make sense : )

_“This cruelty, this madness… “_

Sirens.

Spirals.

Disorientation.

It’s like free falling into darkness of the shadows, consumed by coldness so acute that freezes everything that moves. Likewise his stiffened limbs morphing into the semblance of the solid ground underneath as he kneels hopelessly, hands atop of each other apparently relinquishing the efforts to stop the gushing of red fluid out of the motionless body through its chest. When do tears start to taste like iron? Has he been crying blood?

“Cloud! You need to let go now... she’s...she’s gone...”

_“H-how did it come to this...? This can’t be happening...it can’t be....”_

Hatred is not his question. He’s known it even long before he was meant to know it. The subtlety of its existence and the malice that it spreads. Does this hatred have a name? Foolish of him to question that. 

The voices are lying about her body going cold, for his heart still burns as he holds her close to it. It still burns, _goddamn it_. Her hands, her cheeks are still warm. How could a body with such warmth be already dead? 

And this pain in his head, his chest. Someone tell him what he should do? Because it won’t stop taunting like vultures gnawing on his flesh.

“Cloud.... goddamn, jus’ stop it will ya? I swear I’ll shoot ya ass if ya don’t stop bawlin’ righ’ now eh? Oh goddamn it!”

Their skins have been touched with nothing but rusted metals and acid rain. How long have they been like this? Chasing after a madman only to be slain like animals? Is it a blistering show for the planet that nobody cares about before he blows it up?

“You gonna mess up ‘er body, Spikey. Aerith...say sumthin’ to ‘im before we all end up dead too!”

“Hey, _watch it_ , Barret. If anyone else’s gonna die, that’d be you! Sephy, you idiot, why not come kill this insensitive shrew for everybody’s sake!”

“Hey, Yuffie, so you big hero? You stood there like a fuckin’ statue while the son offa bi-“

“-hey, guys. You _bastards_! Shut it will you?

That’s when humanity is just a pawn for these transgressing monsters. The age where shitholes make more sense than civilisation. Like the proximity of the fact that the planet itself seek out and embrace such strife and menace that the people living in it would have no choice but to suffer through it. The reason why this madness prevails even life after life has been sacrificed. 

Life makes more sense to him when it does not.

“-did you- guys- did Aerith just- ?”

“-yes, I did. So _zip_ it before I curse your very existence for the planet to swallow you up whole.”

What happened to this world? When did it lose its way? That it becomes commonplace for people to send away their friends to their graves like they’d see each other again. Just waiting in line till death lures one more of them and he’d still think they’d come back.

“We need to go. Cloud, get a hold of yourself. Sephiroth is still lurking around. Aerith’s still not safe. Cid will lead the way. I’ll carry Tifa.”

Like those dredging hours waiting for nothing to happen, the trickling sound of water from leaking pipes in the bathroom, those days when he felt like an empty vessel. Like then, he wishes that his soul be torn apart because he has no need for it any longer.

 _“...no, Vincent… I’ll… do it myself...”  
_  
The sea is wide and deep in front of him. And he has stopped walking, standing at the edge of a cliff. His arms are the universe bearing the mass of a lost star, slowly fading into combusted dust. Somewhere in the extreme distance, he perceives a galaxy spinning closer towards him. He is standing at world’s end, as the blue sea turns into an abyss - the gates for the dead souls.  
  
“Cloud, I-I’m so so sorry… I didn’t mean for this to happen… I thought I’d..

_  
“..... don’t cry, Aerith…. It wasn’t your fault…”  
_

“Spikey? You gotta let go. We’ll put her to rest her in these grounds. We’ll come back once ‘tis all over. What do you say?”

“Will you be okay?”

He can’t really comprehend the voices talking to him. Are they sympathizing or begging for something? But who cares. They used to notice how crazy the world was getting out there, gradually sweeping them off into a slow descent into insanity. And it has no good definition if he really thought about. That is when it struck him - this pain, this hatred - he’ll let them win. Because in the end, nothing ever makes sense.

_“...I...I just wish that time would stop for a second....”_

“-huh? Cloud..? Hey, Clou- -”

“Cloud, noooo!”

  
If there was still a good reason for life, then he couldn’t have found a better place to live it- consumed by a darkness where the source of life ironically sprouts. They can curse him for it. 

_Say, Tifa...what do you think of becoming a hero?_


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thought of a small town as the sunset flashed orange and pink hues in the sky. A town which reminded him of a home-cooked meal and a girl in a turquoise dress which again would remind him of the sky. And the sky could tell him many things by the colour and smell- that if it smelled like a pile of laundry heavily soaked in bleach, he‘d know, it was going to rain. Funny, for rain to come amidst such splendour. 

“ _I’ve got to ask you something.”_

_He thought of a small town as the sunset flashed orange and pink hues in the sky. A town which reminded him of a home-cooked meal and a girl in a turquoise dress which again would remind him of the sky. And the sky could tell him many things by the colour and smell- that if it smelled like a pile of laundry heavily soaked in bleach, he‘d know, it was going to rain. Funny, for rain to come amidst such splendour._

_”I mean it’s not like I don’t like it or anything, but aren’t you cold? Why are you dressed like this anyway?” He let his eyes linger at the scars on her knees, the fresh acquiring the healing ones._

_She had sat at the edge of a crag to get away from the rest, as she usually would, and he had joined in after her. “Well, consider it AVALANCHE’s propaganda,” she said._

_Beautiful face, ebony hair, sardonic laughter._

_“But hey, where do you think we sourced our information from? Besides, I’d probably do whatever they asked. I had nowhere to go, nothing better to do,” she shrugged, her legs let swung freely, smiling at the sinking sun._

_“They’re nice though…” His eyes raised higher._

_“What?”_

_“I-I mean it’s nice you being the espionage and stuff.” His cheeks burned, obviously not because of the still bright sun. “But I’m not too sure if I’m fond of those bruises and scratches that propaganda rewards you with in return.”_

_“Says someone who boasts about being a mercenary. You’re an idiot.” Still then, that beautiful smile amidst her mockery but sorrowful eyes. His shoulders felt heavier than before as he sensed the clouds shifted and hovered densely above their heads. The laundries were going to be dried out soon. Could he be like the clouds that would release rain unto the earth? Or would he be like those clouds that hide the sun away? Or should he stop being dumb?_

_“Say, Cloud.” She said curiously. “What do you think of becoming a hero?”_

_He scoffed, “Are you thinking that because of where we’ve put ourselves right now?”_

_“Hmmm… yeah?” She grinned innocently that triggered a nostalgic urge for him to pinch her cheeks. His head throbbed._

_“N-no way. You’re an idiot.” He curtly said, discomforted by the sudden pain. He had somehow became an expert at hiding it unless it was too unbearable._

_She gave him a cynical side-glance, teasing him a little more despite sensing his rising annoyance. “Even if you killed Sephiroth and saved the world? Surely you’d want recognition for that!”_

_He twitched a smile for her. How could he not, for this genius minx who unlike him, saw good distinctions in everything? It was embarrassing enough to get annoyed at some mere head throb._

_And the rain._

_One, two, three drops on his face, her hair and the grass- enough to make them retreat for a shade and forgo the conversation. But really, being the centre of attention for some courageous benignity - who’d want to have that kind of burden when life is already a pain in the ass?_

_His past was already murky as it was but this cold rain, the faded blazing sun, the beautiful smile she cracked at times, they all somehow will remain in his shattered memories, like wisps of fire running through his veins like blood._


End file.
